After Trisha leaves, I decide to do one oil painting, and one portrait from the specimens I gathered tonight. The oil painting will have to wait for another day, since I’m out of some of the paint that I need, but I work on the digital photograph for another hour before leaving to go home. Normally, I stop in at mama and daddy’s place on my way home from the store, but since it’s past midnight, it’s far too late. I send mama a text message letting her know that I’m going home. And just as I figured she would, she sends me a text message back with a heart.
My eyes are tired, but my body is wide awake as I drive the ten minutes to my house. The landscapers have been around to cut the grass and manicure my garden. The small lamps that line the walkway flicker as I walk past them. The coach lamp on my porch lights with my motion, which alerts me that I have a visitor when I’m inside the house. With the equipment I have in my basement, and some of the inventory that I've kept over the years, my home security system is almost as robust as the one at the store. Both systems light up like Christmas trees to alert me of any problems.
After I get myself ready for bed, I realize a mistake that I’ve made. The photos that I took of me and Levi together tonight I’ve sent to my phone. Pouring over them repeatedly, I rob myself of much needed sleep. Hungering for his touch, my fingers find places on my body where I dream that Levi would touch. Living alone lends me the privacy for such fantasies. Hormones racing, body thrumming, I allow myself to plunge deep into a conscious dream of the man I want and can’t have. The man I think about constantly. The man that I feel has brought me as close to love as I’ve ever been.
This may be infatuation, but whatever it is, and in whatever capacity, I let myself feel it in private. Because that’s all I’ve ever known, and it likely is all I will ever know. Soft, overworked fingertips brush my beaded nipples, sending pulses between my legs, as I picture Levi's mouth and tongue doing what my hand is doing. My imagination plays with me, showing me, both in my mind, and in all my nerve endings, what it would feel like if Levi were here with me now. Mouth wet and strong, his lips encircle my nipples as my fingers do the work and my mind rolls the tape over and over again, until the first orgasm strikes.
Back arched, wetness hungry, one hand ventures south, while the other one still teases my breasts. In my mind, Levi’s feathery tongue flicks my hardened clit, while my fingers do the work in real time. They play with me, artfully inserting in and out of my wetness, in a perfect rhythm, as I envision Levi’s cock pulsing in and out of me, pelvis thrusting feverishly, until the second orgasm comes, even stronger than the first. My mastery knows no bounds, nor does my fruitful imagination, as I slide a third finger inside, while circling my clit with the pad of my thumb, making myself come a third time effortlessly.
Knowing my own body so well, it’s doubtful that a man could match my prowess. I’ve been single all my life, and there is no reason why I would need a man to pleasure me. However, I’lldie before I admit that I would love to feel a man’s touch just once. So many faces and bodies have appeared in my dreams, but something tells me that Levi's image is going to make a lasting impression. I'm exhausted, even though I know that I could do this all night. And I have. Trisha and I have spoken about my overactive libido, and evidently, I'm the only one that can get herself off multiple times in one night, alone. No battery-operated friends required.
It's a gift.
And, for right now, it's just a gift for me, as it's always been. I lie there, relaxed and satisfied, thinking about how nice it would be to be in Levi's arms. Like I was, even if it was just for a second earlier tonight. Sitting behind him on the horse was, at the time, nerve-wracking, but now that I'm alone, and I've got a few orgasms out, I can admit it that he is one very special man. I'll keep that to myself. Except from Trisha. I tell her everything. What is this Shelly person like, anyway? What could he see in her? Maybe she's just really good in bed. I mean, if she's pregnant, then they must at least have good chemistry together. If Trisha were here, and if I'd said that out loud, she would say that that's not necessarily true. A woman can get pregnant sometimes so easily, it doesn't have to be good sex or even a good orgasm that gets her there.
But something tells me that Levi is very good in bed. Of course, I have no frame of reference, so this is all projection. The way he looks at me, the way he held me for just a second, and the way he moves, all are great indicators that he would be good in bed. And, lord strike me dead for admitting this, but I'm convinced that Trisha is right, that Levi does have a fantastic package, because I've checked it out myself. No, I've never seen a real live penis before, and no, I don't want to go to a club to see one, thanks. Unless it's attached to the man I love, I'm not interested. And, frankly, those types of clubs scare me. I'd much ratherwatch my man do a strip tease. Of course, there is no shortage of sexy cowboys here in Copper Cove, and a few of them have looked my way. But nobody has ever showed a genuine interest in me. Never has that look been in a man's eye for me before.
Not until I met Levi.
And I can't have him.
It's a tragedy.
Chapter 9
Levi
Her car is parked in the driveway when I arrive, and I hope to God that she's finally ready to talk. I need to know. I need to know a lot of things. I need answers. This shit is going to ruin me if I don't find out. "Levi? That you?" She calls out as I enter the house. And it strikes me that I still don't even know how she pays for it. To my knowledge, she has no job. She just goes to school.
"Yeah." It smells wonderful in here. Like she's had a pot roast in the slow cooker all day.
"You hungry?"
"I am now. Jesus Christ, this must be what heaven smells like." She smiles, as I enter the kitchen. An apron around her waist and matching oven mitts makes her look like a whole other person. "Have you been cooking all day?"
"Kind of. My girlfriends are coming over later. But I made enough for you, if you want some."
"Sure. I'm game." I'm half pleased that she's in such a great mood and cooked, but I'm also have concerned that with her having company over later, that she either won't be up for talking about anything serious, or there won't be enough time to do so. "What time is this shindig starting up?"
"Soon. They should be here in an hour. Y'all can stay for a bit if you want to meet them."
Part of me wants to stay and see if her friends will bring out any more truth in her, but the other part doesn't want to get to know more people in her circle. Do they even know that she's pregnant? Do they know about me? Why is she even offering for me to stay? Isn't that weird if it's a girls' night? "Um, I'll think about it." I go for bold. "Do they know that you're pregnant?"
"No. I haven't told anybody yet." Interesting.
'What about the whole party at Wyatt's wedding' comes to mind, but I don't say anything. "Why not?"
She ignores my question and sticks a wooden spoon in my face. It's steaming with something that looks and smells like what's in the room, so I can't resist. "Taste this for me. Tell me if it needs anything else."
I take a bite. It's perfect. "No. I'd eat it as it is." She washes the spoon off before placing it back into the pot. Then she turns the radio up in the kitchen. It was already on softly, but it's now playing more upbeat tunes. I feel like she's got this party vibe going, and me asking a lot of questions is not going to go over well, but I need to try. "Do you mind answering a question?"
"What question is that?" She asks, like she didn't hear me the first time.
"Why didn't you tell your friends that you're pregnant?"
The oven mitts come off. "Because I figured after the slip of my tongue at the wedding, it might set you off."
"It set everyone off, actually."
